The Frozen War
by Praegressus
Summary: The Watchers have returned, and the world was reborn in ice. It is not the cold in the air that will break them, but the cold in the hearts of men. A new world, with new rules. With the institute gone, the fate of Runeterra lies in the hands of its champions.
1. Chapter 1

**I've always wanted to write a "end of the league" league fic, but until now, I never could find the right plot.**

**But now the time has come.**

**No ridiculous pairings, no OP void-based deus ex machina, no stepping out of line from existing lore (given, i won't be able to adapt to any new lore reworks), and no single character story.**

**I'll try my best to channel my inner George R. and deliver a deep story about the struggle for power, along with several (hopefully) interesting out-of-league encounters between various champs.**

**Also, if the story picks up, i'll be open to suggestions regarding which champions should appear, and if they should have a relevant role in the story.**

**And yes, i am aware that the author's note is almost longer than the chapter itself, and i apologize for that. I promise it wont happen again.**

**Anyway, enjoy the first chapter!**

* * *

The throne room was silent in this late hour.

It was something new, a throne.

Made from stone and ice and encrusted with gems long forgotten in the caves of the Freljord, it was a seat meant for a king.

A king was something new as well...at least to the trolls.

Brought together under the uncanny leadership of the one known as Trundle, the trolls have only begun to enjoy their new, more comfortable life.

Most were happy, even eager to adapt to the new regime; the troll heroes of times long past were also unifiers, and under the King's rule, tribes were becoming rarer by the day.

The older ones, who still believed in blood and honor in combat protested at first.

Some changed their mind after seeing firsthand as the tribes turned on their chieftains, some lie dead on the ice.

No one protested anymore.

When they needed metal, stone or food, the trolls would raid the villages of the Avarosan, or the Winter's Claw.

Their warriors were fierce fighters, but opportunism was as much a part of trolls as bloodlust.

Ambushes, snowstorms, sometimes even strategy.

One way or the other, the village would fall, and everyone in it would be slain.

If ever someone got away, the troll responsible was sent to find them.

If he would fail, he would be better off braving the Freljord.

Keeping up appearances was crucial to the campaign's success.

And yet it seemed that the trolls had the favor of the gods.

Dozens of villages fell, yet the humans were none the wiser about the new troll kingdom.

So for the first time since history could remember, the trolls were back in power.

* * *

But still, the King could not find peace.

He remembered the cost of this power, and the promise he made.

The witch had immense power, yet he felt it was not hers alone.

For all her power, she was but a pawn.

A pawn to entities whose influence he could sometimes resonate within Boneshiver.

Such power that could reshape the world, and the witch is close to releasing it.

But if he could somehow sever her connection to that power, she wouldn't be able to stand against the might of the Troll King.

Old magic is tricky to deal with, if you don't have the proper knowledge.

You don't get to be the King of Trolls if you can't use your wit.

* * *

He quickly made a plan.

Ancient ruins, used for centuries by both troll and man, are now kept under guard of the kingdom.

He'd spin a tale about the sanctity of those ruins, how no one entered them for as long as anyone can remember.

And then the benevolent King proposes a fair trade to the explorer.

Some information from the league archives, some independent research, and he'd be given access to those ruins.

Trundle let himself smile for the first time that night.

The little human would never turn down such an offer.


	2. Chapter 2

**This one is going to suck. But it had to be written. Sorry.**

* * *

No one ever notices the staff.

The thought occurred to her every so often, but like always, she'd immediately disregard it.

They were the champions of the league of legends, they probably had more important business than to chat with the cleaning lady.

Everyone who joined got a room, but most never used them.

It was kind of funny. They usually kept him in chains, and Brand still had a room.

Those who did reside at the institute usually offered little more than a nod.

Still, despite the occasional inconveniences, she liked her job.

These 'people' were living legends, and it was an honor to see them in person, or whatever.

* * *

It was a strange day.

She'd think that every so often as well. Most times, it didn't mean anything.

But it indeed was strange.

Summoners, aside from heading for the summoning platform, rarely left their quarters.

And here they were, moving in groups of three or four, nervously scurrying down the hallways.

It was almost as if there was something in the air.

For all she knew, there could have been. Magic is tricky like that.

Something was happening.

And when they don't tell her that something is happening, it's most likely something bad.

She pondered following them, but ultimately decided against it.

* * *

As the hours passed, the tension in the air ripened into full-blown pandemonium.

Summoners were heading for the easternmost chamber.

"He's awake!" Some young summoner cried out.

She instinctively followed.

The amount of people was increasing.

* * *

Fiddlesticks was dead.

After years of dormancy, he simply powered his way out of the chamber, slaughtering novice summoners.

The glint of his scythe, the eeire glow in his eyes and the sound of flapping wings.

Only one choice could be made. They had to slay him.

* * *

The air tasted of terror.

Ice was forming in the corners, the doors were sealed by magic.

Cold air ran through the institute, and for the first time in her life, she could feel magic in the air.

"The world will be reborn in ice."

She couldn't remember where she heard those words, or if she heard them before at all.

Maybe she knew it all along.

All of this was supposed to happen. Centuries in the making.

She knew this, yet she didn't know how.

It was too late now.

Her feet felt numb as the ice started to crawl up her leg.

Shouting and screaming filled the air around her, but she didn't care.

It was better on the other side. She decided to stop fighting it.

The world slowly faded into darkness…

* * *

**This will be a double upload, so all the important author's note stuff will be in the other one.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, let's finally kick this story off with one of the most well-designed champions ever to join the league.**

**Anyway, sorry about the annoying formatting. These are still intro chapters, and it'll take a little while for the story to set up properly.**

* * *

The people of Runeterra do not understand the Shadow Isles.

They think it a place of madmen.

A place of monsters.

They…Never visited.

* * *

Memories of a time long past mix with the more recent, more vivid ones.

Distant cries from the darkness. The rattling of chains behind him.

The look of submission in the purifier's eyes. HIs masterpiece.

Picking minds apart…Dying in agony…

No, not dying.

Something much, much worse.

* * *

The Shadow Isles are a place where the veil between life and death is thin.

It isn't hard to see what's on the other side.

And a long time ago, with his last breaths, Thresh did.

It was a desperate call, a futile wish to live even after all was lost.

When he heard the voice in his head, the warden wished he had died instead.

How sweet does death seem to him now.

* * *

His art, his calling, and now, finally, his curse.

Picking minds apart and harvesting wounded souls.

The unnatural hunger was always there.

And every soul he'd find, he'd bring back to the Isles.

For the Isles were sacred, and there he waited.

* * *

The word 'sacred' was also misunderstood in Runeterra.

It was used to describe a place or an object imbued with potent magic; old magic.

There was no God to protect the people of Demacia.

There was no God to watch over the soldiers of Noxus.

But here, in the shadows…There is sacred ground.

A place where gods exist.

* * *

Thresh barely clung to the last bits of humanity within the shell he now used as his body.

The lantern's hunger gnawed away at his sanity…

He did not know why he valued sanity so much anymore, but still he fought.

He had a purpose. He had to fulfill his duty.

A ravenous god, this one.

Not like the spider…no.

The spider chose its avatar wisely.

This one loved to torture.

In a sense, it was a kindred spirit.

But the warden never knew the other side of torture.

And even after this long, with every new soul, the god only wanted more.

Stronger, more powerful souls.

The purifier pleased him.

* * *

Souls…they were old magic.

On sacred ground, he could use them to empower himself.

He could use them to slowly kill the hunger.

Given enough time, he could surely be free…

But it never was that simple.

Thresh knew, it was his calling after all.

Oh how delightfully they screamed when they realized that the apparent oversight was just another way to inflict pain.

Misery fed the warden.

Now it feeds a ravenous god.

* * *

The wind howled as it cut its way through the dead branches above.

Another soul was returned, and the hunger subsided once more.

Thresh clutched the lantern, even though it would follow him regardless.

it was a part of him now.

And in the night, for there was only ever night on the Isles, he felt it.

Powerful magic, the kind used in the wars of his time.

Magic powerful enough to reshape the world….

So much power…

He glanced at the lantern one more time.

When he spoke, his voice was unearthly, twisted.

"Let us see which one of us will break first, hmm?"

* * *

**I've got another chapter in line for upload, but i'm letting it sit a while until i'm sure about it.**

**Still, something big is happening in Runeterra, from which champion's eyes would you want to see the forming of a new world?**

**Again, sorry for the long wait and bad format. I promise it'll get better.**


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